Hello Again
by the Raven of Roses
Summary: An obsession. Revenge. Why does she work so hard to set him free?
1. Cat and Mouse

_When darkness overcomes the heart, Shonen Batto appears_

_A grinning boy with a golden bat offers shallow salvation._

_When the golden fox retreats, smile fading, what will they do?_

_The radio plays records of the moon's past._

_And then…_

Silently, the body falls. Heedless of the crimson spilling into the bath, the knob creaks loudly under a limp hand. Stained pink, water overflows and spreads across the floor.

In the apartment down the hall, a computer screen throws a stark glow over the face of a young girl. Tears streak her face.

It's not my fault reads the conversation window. Don't blame me.

The girl clutches a stuffed cat.

?X?

_Driven into a corner, the mouse must fight or perish._

_Weak minds need a crutch to fall back on._

_The golden fox with a silver smile lurks in the shadows._

_How will they fare?_

The record spins unhindered by the lack of a needle. Blinking lights surround piles of unlabeled discs.

"Must not think about him," repeats the crackling voice through speakers mounted next to a computer screen. "Must not think about him"

The young girl watches curiously, knees drawn up to her chest. Silently, the stuffed cat follows the scratch on the record as it travels round.

Abruptly, there comes a jolt. It knocks the record from its groove, sending the disc spinning away across the floor. The stuffed cat smiles.

"They're fighting again," murmurs the girl, seemingly to no one.

Slowly, the sounds of altercation float through the vents and into the room. The girl sighs and retrieves the record, frowning at the way it tilts. A new crack runs across the middle of its black, grooved surface.

The stuffed cat smiles.

?X?

Years ago…only two, though it seems longer…a strange force swept through Tokyo. The police say it was a child who attacked randomly, beating his victims with a metal bat. They said it was a boy named Kozuka. Even though he himself was killed by the attacker. Even though the attacks continued after his death.

The police called it suicide.

We know better.

"It wasn't suicide," said the broadcast late at night. "Kozuka was murdered."

"He can appear in front of anyone who's been driven into a corner…anytime, anyplace. He's still at large," the broadcast said. "Shonen Batto is still out there on the loose!"

Not everyone could hear the broadcast. Only those who had the Frequency. And there are only two recordings of it out there.

Pardon; one recording of it.

?X?

The girl leaves her apartment the next morning to see a stretcher being wheeled out of apartment 504. A white sheet covers the figure it bears. The girl stares as she passes.

And the stuffed cat smiles.

"They say it was suicide," whispers a haggard-looking housewife to her neighbor.

"But he was such a nice young man," murmurs the neighbor.

"I heard he was in debt," whispers another housewife.

The girl glances at them and continues on. The man in apartment 504 killed himself, and that was that.

She takes the stairs. The paramedics are using the elevator, and anyway, she likes the alone time. The stuffed cat in her arms lolls its head, eyes following the stripes of light on the ground.

A flutter, and the girl trips. Steps fly by, and she finds herself at the door to floor four. Blood trickles after her.

The stuffed cat, eyes unblinking, lands with it ear in the thin trail of blood leaking from the girl's leg. She gasps and snatches it up, but already the scarlet stain has begun to spread.

"No..." she sighs, wiping as much blood away as she can. She sniffles, struggles up. Her leg dribbles blood, but she simply dabs it with her handkerchief and continues on.

?X?

_A cat watches sightlessly the comings and goings of the moon._

_What does the radio say to her?_

_When the fox emerges from its cold burrow, where is the dog who will drive it back?_

_And then..._

"Kurogame!"

A ruler cracks against the desk. The addressee stares unblinkingly at her teacher, eyes empty.

"Sakura Kurogame, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, sensei," she answers distantly.

"What did I tell you about bringing that cat to class?"

"I will put it away. I am very sorry."

Sakura stows the cat in her bag. She turns back to the notebook on her desk and starts.

Grinning up at her from the mass of Kanji and hiragana is the figure of a young boy with a baseball bat.

Noticing her expression, Sakura's classmate and friend, Yumi, approaches her after class. Sakura ignores her. Yumi's questions pass through her as though she were nothing but air.

?X?

Shonen Batto. A boy with a golden bat. He comes when someone is cornered and looking for a way out. One person as well as many. He offers shallow salvation, a convenient exit for the weak of spirit.

My neighbor committed suicide last night. But how can that be, when I saw the wounds? There was no razor, no gun. We know better.

They're already looking for suspects. The police know, but they're trying to keep it hush-hush. They know he was murdered.

My neighbor and his wife didn't get along.

?X?

Sakura watches calmly, knees drawn up to her chest as she sits in a rickety chair in the cafe. Around her, people argue. Blaming each other. Tension simmers under cup after endless cup of coffee from the sticky front counter.

Her stuffed cat stares at her from its place on the table. It questions her.

Sakura takes the cat and stuffs it in her bag. She stands. And leaving her cold coffee on the table, Sakura leaves the cafe.

She passes a security guard on the street. He is reminiscent of a detective who resigned just after they caught Kozuka. Sakura gives the man a nod, then averts her eyes. He scares her.

The man watches her go.

?X?

Those with weak minds and desperate souls call to him. They want him back. Even though they know deep in their psyches that it would mean risking complete destruction.

Some people are weak.

People like me.

But I'm different. I know I am. I can see him. I watch him struggle to gain a corporeal form.

Shonen Batto. Tell me what to do.

I'm tired of this filth I see. The weak ones who would do nothing to better their situation, who would rather complain about their misery than fix it.

Tell me what to do.

?X?

Sakura places the record on the phonograph, needle-less arm over the oily black disc. Eerily, the broadcast begins anew. She has found the other copy.

"Must not think of him," it hisses, and the voice echoes.

"Sorry," she giggles. "I appreciate your effort, though."

The stuffed cat smiles.

(**Author's note**: Damn. It's been a long, LONG time. I'm terribly sorry about the lag between fics. I've had a lot on my plate since I wrote last. But you don't want to hear about that, do you? At any rate, I wrote this one awhile ago. I hope you like it enough to not be angry with me for the ridiculously long interval between updates… ::Raven:: )


	2. Records

"Late last night, a young man was discovered beaten on the street in the Shibuya district. The injuries appear to have been inflicted by a blunt instrument, possibly a metal baseball bat. Popular opinion suggests a connection to a series of violent street assaults two years ago, but the police refuse to comment."

Sakura turns off the television. Her smirk is caught in the grey of the dead screen.

Her morning routine is hampered by her injured leg, but the stiff movements of the limb are only barely noticed by its owner. She ties her long hair back with a plain black ribbon that is fully in compliance with the school's dress code, then smoothens out her plain black skirt.

A previous conversation flies through her head like a vulture, circling and circling. Between her and Yumi.

_Where were you last night?_

_Where were you, Yumi? I was worried about you!_

_I...met Shoji-kun at the cafe._

_But Yumi. You knew how much I liked him._

_He insisted I go._

_Yumi. I waited at the theatre for you._

_It's not my fault! Don't blame me!_

At that point, Sakura had ended the conversation and blocked Yumi's screen names.

At the end of the umpteenth repetition, Sakura buckles her bookbag shut and with a vicious tug seeks to banish the thoughts by slinging the bag over her shoulder.

The stuffed cat smiles, and its head jerks when Sakura snatches it from the bed.

Sunlight streams through the window, illuminating the door as it clicks shut behind her.

?X?

Tell me what to do. Guide me. I will help you. Guide me, Shonen Batto.

This time, the golden fox will have a mouse to aid him.

Smile for me. Just once.

I love your eyes. You should show them more. Such a beautiful shade of bright blue...

?X?

Sakura smiles sadly when they ask her what's wrong. She tells them that she is fine. That there is nothing to worry about. But they ask again as if they (shallow and simple as they were) could understand and help.

She smiles again and waves them away. They finally lose interest, wander off.

Sakura returns to her newspaper. Headlines scream of another street attack, the second in two days. Rumors fly even in the stiff printed lines of the dread Shonen Batto.

Sakura smirks. The bastard had it coming, after all. Too bad no one had thought to look into his record. Convicted of rape but able to buy his way out of prison. A tainted soul on the verge of collapse.

The stuffed cat watches the newspaper with an air of detached interest. Its stained ear bends slightly, folded in place by the dried blood. Large eyes stare blankly but comprehendingly at the words on the page.

Suddenly, a rattle. Small at first, the tremor gains strength until even Sakura is roused from her reading. Around her, books fall from shelves and desks. Students cry out, evacuating the school. Sakura stares in morbid fascination as the teacher is hit in the head with a heavy plaque and falls. Blood spreads across the tilting floor, pooling at Sakura's feet. The stuffed cat smiles.

Blink.

Sakura starts. Everything is set right. Yumi glances at her, concerned by the haunted look in her eyes. The teacher goes on with the lesson, unaware that Sakura has been daydreaming in class.

?X?

I see you. You're getting stronger. Feeding on the threads of fear and desperation.

Your eyes make me sad. They're turning gold again. Going cold. I wish you wouldn't do that. Your eyes were so pretty...

I know you hear me. Even though I don't talk back. You never really were one for conversation anyway.

I think I'm going to visit him. Is that what you wanted, Shonen Batto?

I think so. You wouldn't look at me like that unless you really wanted me to.

Just a little longer. You only need to be patient awhile longer. He will contribute greatly to your strength, and then we need only let hysteria take its natural course.

And then...I can finally touch...

You're laughing at me. You think it's madness. But may I remind you who is the one that is trying to set you free? Don't I deserve my little fantasy? After all, I don't _have_ to help you.

I wish your eyes were blue again.

?X?

Sakura kneels down on the pavement of the hospital parking lot. The white-haired man beside her continues his meandering chalk equation undisturbed by her presence.

The man looks much older than he is. Scraggly white hair betrays a mostly-unlined face and a tall. lithe frame. He can't be much older than thirty, but his eyes already carry the distant air of senility.

"Hello, Detective," murmurs Sakura, grinning.

Maniwa starts, his eyes returning just for a moment to reality. He stares at Sakura. His chalk falls from his hand and breaks in two on the ground.

"So you've still got _some_ awareness, I see."

Sakura helps him to his feet. He sways, and though Sakura is more than a foot shorter than he is, she supports him as they move to a bench outside the main entrance.

"It's no use, you know. These prophetic drawings and mumblings of yours," she whispers in his ear. "No one is left to understand them. They are all wrapped-up in their own petty little lives. You were the last of a dying breed, Maniwa."

Maniwa's lips move haltingly, but his voice betrays him and no words make themselves known. Sakura finds some shred of pity for this wreck of a once-great man. He deserves more than the stinking sterility of a hospital room.

"I heard your broadcast," she whispers, clutching Maniwa's hand. "I really am sorry it didn't reach more people. Perhaps if it had, you wouldn't be here. Perhaps someone would have believed you. As it is, you only have your enemy to comfort you."

Maniwa laughs. The sound is desperate, bordering on hysteria. His lips move again, but the shrill cackles form no words.

"You used to have such beautiful eyes," sighs Sakura, turning his face to look at hers. "How dull and haunted they've become. It's so sad."

"Little mouse," croaks Maniwa, grasping wild-eyed at the collar of her shirt."Why have you strayed so far, little mouse?"

"You speak," laughs Sakura, deflecting the prophet's trembling hands. "I'm no mouse. Mice don't fight back. Call me a rat if you must, or a shrew."

"Why, little mouse?" he asks again.

Sakura stands and walks away.

?X?

Are you happy with me? Maniwa will soon be out of the picture. He won't last much longer, anyway. Him nor the security guard.

Funny, isn't it. The only one who really benefited from your last appearance was your mother.

I'm sorry. You don't like me calling her your mother. I meant Tsukiko. Miss Sagi.

Funny, though. Miss Sagi, the designer, got two big hits from you. No pun intended. She got Maromi...and the cat. What's her name again? Ah well. No matter.

The point is that I know you can do some good as well as bad. That time, Miss Sagi was the one who really needed your help.

You're getting tired of my babbling, I see. I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone in a moment.

Please smile for me again.

Your eyes are beautiful...

?X?

Sakura calmly washes her hands. The sink is stained pink with the traces of water clinging to white plastic. She devotes a dark towel to wiping off her arms and face after a splash of cold water washes away the last evidence of red.

Behind her, the moon rises in a window. It casts a bluish glow over the bathroom and obscures Sakura's face with shadow.

She laughs.


	3. Ku

"Did you hear?"

"Oh, I did!"

"That ex-detective, the security guard. He was attacked last night!"

Sakura passes the group of housewives outside her apartment complex. Her face is blank, but the women stare anyway. They whisper behind their hands and glance at Sakura's retreating figure with expressions of distaste and suspicion.

"She's a strange one, Sakura."

"Is that her name? She doesn't remind me of cherry blossoms at all, that's for sure."

"She looks unbalanced."

"You don't think she'll--"

"You never do know. Her mother, you know--"

"You mean the one who--"

"Killed herself a year ago, didn't she?"

"And her father remarried, It was a dreadful scandal!"

"You mean _that _was Akumi's daughter?"

"I heard..."

Sakura puts on her headphones and is lost to the world.

?X?

Can I attack them for you?

No. You want some of them for yourself. I forgot about that for a second. They hurt you, too.

The security guard is gone now.

Don't look at me like that. Your eyes are so cold. It scares me.

Tell me what to do. I'm sorry. I won't ask you to smile again. But please, _please _tell me what to do, Shonen Batto.

Tell me what to do.

?X?

_The bars of the golden cage bend._

_When the little mouse springs him from his cell. what will the golden fox do?_

_A little mouse has lost its way, and only the radio can capture her thoughts._

_Where is the moon tonight?_

_And then..._

"I'm so depressed!"

Yumi proceeds to relate every one of her troubles to Sakura, who listens sympathetically. Or at least, that is the outward appearance. Yumi, it seems, is failing several classes, and her mother found out the night before that Yumi skips study sessions to hang out with her boyfriend.

"I wish I could just...I don't know," she sighs. "Just get a free pass out of all this, you know?"

Sakura resists the urge to smirk. She turns the grin into a pout of agreement.

"You know, it's too bad that Shonen Batto isn't around anymore," Sakura sighs. "Remember him? He'd help you in a minute."

"Yeah..." Yumi brightens. "But he _is_ back, isn't he? Her attacked that security guard. And your neighbor. Maybe he'd..."

Sakura lets her smile show. Yumi laughs and goes back to her homework. The mood is broken, but the seeds have been planted nonetheless.

The whispers continue throughout the week. Sakura spreads the infection as far as she can, subtly suggesting that a supernatural presence can free the minds--if not bodies--of the suffering.

And the sickness spreads.

?X?

Almost, Shonen Batto. We're almost there. They're calling you, aren't they? It's almost time.

You're smiling of your own accord now. I'm sad to see that note of malice, but at least you're happy.

But your eyes...don't let them go so cold...it makes me so sad...I know I have no power over you, but if I had one wish, it would be to see those eyes blue again.

I have a plan. No, not for your eyes. To set you free. You'll have to make do with a meaningless victim, I'm afraid. Though if she sets you free, she's not really that meaningless, I suppose.

I'll take you to her. You know her already. I'll take you to her home tomorrow. She'll be weak enough by then.

So close. She's almost ready. Tomorrow. You'll be free by this time tomorrow, Shonen Batto.

You'll be free...

?X?

Yumi opens the door to her room early the next evening. Sakura, smiling, enters the room. She carries her stuffed cat and a scratched record.

"This record is really creepy," she laughs. "I found it in my room after Shonen Batto was caught."

She puts the record on the phonograph and plucks the needle from its arm.

"It only plays without the needle."

"Weird."

Yumi's eyes grow wider the longer the record plays. Her pupils constrict, shrink to pinpricks. Her breath grows shallow, and sweat forms on her brow.

"Must not think about him." crackles the record. "Must not think about him."  
"Yumi, what's wrong?" Sakura puts on a concerned face. "You look pale."

Yumi suddenly starts backwards. She is staring at the cat, who is grinning madly at her.

The cat grows. Its eyes flash gold, and it shudders in Sakura's hands. Sakura smirks and holds the cat out to her.

"What's the matter? It's just a stuffed kitten," she laughs. "Don't tell me you're _scared _of it!"

An arm erupts from the wide face of the cat. Then another. Hands grasp at the air, then at Sakura, and a baseball cap rips the cat apart as it forces its way through.

Lithely, a boy dives from the space previously occupied by the stuffed cat. He lands in a crouch but recovers quickly, standing and reaching back into the ruins of the stuffed animal. Out come a pair of roller blades and a metal baseball bat, both golden.

Yumi gives a small squeak of terror as she watches him calmly put on the roller blades. Sakura relishes the fear she sees in her eyes. She puts out an arm to keep Yumi from leaving the room, but she needn't have bothered. Yumi's legs give out even before she's taken a single step towards freedom.

Shonen Batto grins and stands. The roller blades on his feet glint in the dull glow of a computer screen. He taps the bat idly on the side of Yumi's bed, waiting.

Yumi bolts. She is dead before she reaches the door.

Sakura wipes blood from her lips. She smiles at the mess of bones and skin and scarlet on the ground. Then she turns to Shonen Batto.

"How does it feel to be out again?" she asks, stepping around the body to stand at his side.

"Pretty damn good," he laughs.

He draws back, startled by the sound of his own voice. It is the first time he has spoken since his farewell to Tsukiko, and his words are rusted. In truth, he hadn't expected himself to answer her.

"Thank you," Sakura breathes, wiping at her eyes. "Thank you so much. Thank you!"

She reaches out to him, and he recoils. Sakura lets out a small wounded gasp.

"But--"

"Get away from me," he orders, sitting on the bed.

Sakura feels a rush of heat come into her face. She sits next to him and crosses her arms over her chest.

"I helped set you free!" she cries.

"So you did." Shonen Batto inspects his reflection in a mirror he's seized from Yumi's desk. "My eyes are blue again. Does that make you happy?"

"You're talking a lot."

"So I am." He glances at the body. "Aren't you afraid that someone will come in here and find the body?"

"Not really. There was no sound, and anyway, her parents aren't due back for at least another hour."

Sakura gazes down at the wreckage of the stuffed cat in her hands. She lets out a bark of laughter, then drops it.

"You owe me, you know," she insists. I set you free. You _know _you owe me."

"Do I?" He stares at her, and his eyes begin to turn to gold. "What payment do you expect?"

"I--" She averts her gaze. "I need you to attack someone else for me."

"Then will you leave me alone?" He waits for a second and, receiving no answer, sighs. "Take me to them."

No one notices the boy following her. Sakura leads him out of the apartment building and down the street to her own. The elevator takes them right outside the door to Sakura's apartment.

She unlocks it, though she knows full-well that Shonen Batto could have passed right through the door. He smirks and follows her in.

"Them," she whispers. "Both of them. I want them both to disappear."

"Sure."

He taps the bat twice on the floor and is gone. The scrape of inline skates on wooden floorboards fades, and Sakura is left to stand alone in the entryway. She locks the door and waits.

This time, there is a scream. Short, strangled. It is abruptly cut off in a gurgle as the screamer drowns in their own blood. Or at least, that is what Sakura imagines it to mean.

A second thud, though Sakura doesn't quite remember a first, and then another. She winces involuntarily but walks into the kitchen anyway. Instinctively, she knows she will find them there.

And so she does. Scarlet everywhere. Shonen Batto did a good job this time. Sakura pauses to marvel at a perfect crimson heart on the wall. Then her attention is drawn to the floor.

"Which one is my stepmother?" she asks blandly, nudging one of the corpses with her shoe.

"The other one, I think." Shonen Batto smiles apologetically. "I lost track of them after the first few hits."

"My father was going to leave anyway, you know."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, you're not."

"You're right. But it seemed the right response."

"You're going to leave now, aren't you?"

"You're not going to thank me?"

"I like your eyes better now. You're warming up again."

"You women are never satisfied."

"You talk too much."

"So do you."

Shonen Batto grins again. Sakura reaches out to him, and this time he does not recoil. She manages to get one arm around his shoulders before her legs give out on her.

He catches her, kneels down and sets her on a clean spot on the floor. His bat scrapes against the bloody hand of one of the corpses, sending the limb rolling into the torso.

He looks at Sakura, whose eyelids flutter over golden-brown irises. She reaches out to him again, but her hand falls to her side as soon as she raises it.

"I'm sorry," sighs Shonen Batto, fixing his sky-blue eyes on hers.

And he fades away, leaving Sakura alone in her kitchen.

Clutched loosely in her hands is a bloody metal bat.

**(Author's Note: **so, kids, how did you like that one? I know it went rather OOC, but try telling my muses that. I wrote that one MONTHS ago, but I only got around to typing it a couple days ago. There's another story arc to follow this one, though whether I add it to this story or start another for it remains to be seen. Again, sorry about the lag. I promise I'll be better about that. Do take care, mes amis! Ave Atque Vale::Raven::)


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